


Day 362

by Josh_the_Bard



Series: A Year in Kirkwall [362]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28396287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josh_the_Bard/pseuds/Josh_the_Bard
Series: A Year in Kirkwall [362]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589257
Kudos: 1





	Day 362

Vari had finished getting Master Gabriel to bed and was making her way to her own quarters when she heard scuttling noises coming from the ground floor. She doubted any thieves would try to rob the orphanage, not for any moral reasons (she had no illusions as to the lengths people would go to to survive,) but because they had no money inside and were under the protection of the Champion. Still, she had to fight the urge to run and hide under her covers like a baby. She could have fetched Lisa-Marie but if it was just a dog looking for kitchen scraps she would have felt foolish.

She grabbed a candlestick from a wall fixture and brandished it like a club as she snuck down the steps. The sun had set but a moon was high in the sky shining light through the windows. There were five figures at one of the windows, trying to pick the lock, but they were inside trying to get out rather than the reverse.

“Who goes there,” Veri hissed, raising her weapon up over her head. Though she would be lucky to overpower one, let alone five. They jumped when she spoke and turned to face her. She recognized Ferrer and a few other of the other orphans. 

“Veri?” Ferrer whispered. “What are you still doing up? And who says thing like ‘who goes there?’”

“I was just on my way to bed when I heard you lot making a terrible racket,” Veri said. “Where are you going?”

Ferrer looked around nervously and leaned in close whispering in Veri’s ear. As though he were worried someone might overhear.

“There’s a brewery not five blocks from here. The Alewife is a horrid woman who used to torment the street children of the area. We were just going to avail ourselves of some of her work. We didn’t think you would be interested, what with you being so proper and important now.”

“I...” Veri was about to protest but something gave her pause. She actually liked working for Master Gabriel. He wasn’t harsh, but he expected a lot from her. Having a trade, a skill you could do all your life was no small thing. Especially for an elf. She barely dared to think about it, but she might even take over from Master Gabriel one day and help run the clayworks. She didn’t want to risk Gabriel’s or Maker forbid, the Champion’s wrath by sneaking out. But if she turned Ferrer and they others down, they would never invite her anywhere again. She had to show them that she was one of them if she wanted to have any friends that weren’t old men.

“I’m not too important,” she said. “And you needn't bother with that window, Master Gabriel has a key, give me a moment and I’ll go get it.”

The others looked at her, expectantly and she was too committed no to back out now. She tiptoed up the stairs and lifted the key from Master Gabriel's nightstand. She made extra sure to lock the window behind them so no one would know anything was amiss. Ferrer led them to the brewery and they worked together to climb through the second floor window. Veri let her guard down here, drinking ale and laughing with the other children. She even let Ferrer hiss her when one of the others dared him to but then they both got too embarrassed to meet each other’s eyes after that.

They must have been laughing louder than they thought for it was not long before the ale wife came up to investigate. She shouted at them and threw things at them and there was a mad scramble to escape. Veri had not thought she had had that much to drink but she couldn’t manage to run in a straight line and was the last to the window. The alewife grabbed her by the collar of her tunic and hauled her back into the room. The last she saw of Ferrer was his apologetic face as he disappeared into the streets.

“You dirty thieving urchin,” the woman shrieked. “I’ll see you rot in the dungeons for this mark my words.”


End file.
